


Equanimity

by Nyxelestia



Series: Nyxie Studies Vocabulary With Ficlets [5]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Casual drinking, Diabetes, Dishonor Upon You!, Dishonor Upon Your Copy-machine!, Dishonor Upon Your Family!, Dishonor!, Drug Use Jokes, Education, Fanfic Squared, Gen, fanfic of a fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12114399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxelestia/pseuds/Nyxelestia
Summary: Ken shrugged, trying to find a way to word everything right. "Keep your head level, despite all the stress you must be under. Staying composed under the greatest pressure. I don't know how you can maintain such equanimity in the middle of all that madness."





	Equanimity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zelos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelos/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Kintsugi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11997624) by [Zelos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelos/pseuds/Zelos). 



> **[e•qua•ni•mi•ty](http://thefreedictionary.com/equanimity)** _(n.)_  
>  1\. the quality of being calm and even tempered  
> 2\. composure
> 
> Ken Morita is not my character, but is Zelos' wonderful expansion on an easter-egg character from the adorable and hilarious [Sonder](http://archiveofourown.org/series/824436) universe. This ficlet in particular takes place during [Kintsugi](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11997624).

“I’ll be in touch soon, Liz," Ken said, doing his best to keep his voice as supportive and professional as possible. "Take care of yourself.”

He pursed his lips and gently set the phone back in its cradle.

Then, since the blinds to his office were closed, Ken gave into the urge to drop his head on the desk with a sharp bang.

There was not enough Advil in the world for this. The only things that could help him at this point were illegal to possess within a quarter mile of his own office.

Ken would do just about anything for his students - or in this case, for a former student - but that didn't mean it wasn't exhausting.

Still - Liz was a bright young girl, whose life was falling apart around her through no fault of her own. Ken could suffer through a few weeks of paper-pushing, teacher-chasing, and endless phone calls for this.

Especially if he got some help along the way.

The door to his office opened, and Ken groaned.

"Everything okay?" Janet asked.

"No," Ken whined, lifting his head up to rub at his temples. "Nothing is every okay in this school. But I'll live." Blowing a completely unhelpful breath out of his nose, he said, "Might need to ask Grace for something strong enough to kill my headache, first."

"Just as long as it's not _too_ strong," Janet said cheerfully.

Too cheerfully.

Ken squinted up at her suspiciously as she set a stack of files down on his desk.

"We don't want you _use_ , now do we?" she said with a grin.

He stared up at her in woebegone betrayal. "Goddamnit, Janet, not you too. Just how many people did Larry tell?"

Janet laughed her way out of his office.

~*~

When Ken had told Liz that he knew someone who's better half would be able to help him work out a distance education plan for her, he hadn't actually expected much. Yet somehow, when he'd reached out to Hogan and gotten an address, a date, and a time in return, he wasn't all that surprised, either.

Ken figured Hogan was just as tired of phone calls as he was. It was a Friday afternoon, bordering on evening, and he was sure Hogan needed an end-of-the-week pick-me-up as much as he did.

He did re-evaluate his expectations, though, when the address took him to one of the most reputable bars in Queens, just north of the Citigroup building. This didn't look like the kind of place Happy Hogan would be interested.

No surprise, then, that inside, it wasn't happy waiting for him.

"Mr. Morita," Pepper Potts greeted him, holding out a hand. Ken shook it hesitantly, and took the barstool next to her.

"I'm not gonna lie, I was expecting someone else," Ken said. Looking around the nice bar, he added, "And, uh, some _where_ else."

Even principals didn't get paid that much - certainly not enough to afford a place like that. Pepper must've read it on his face, though, because she literally waved off the concern.

"My treat," she said. "I'm sure Tony's never said 'thank you', so consider this my way of saying it for him."

"Thank me?" Ken asked, bewildered. "For what?"

"Peter is a very unique case," she said. "There is no real precedent for him and his circumstances, and while we try our best - well. We have a lot going on, and a lot of things slip through the cracks." She waved down the bartender. "Having another set of eyes on him, especially from someone who isn't afraid to call us about him...you've helped us a lot - helped _me_ a lot, and Peter. And you saved us all many, many headaches in the long run."

Ken wasn't sure how to respond, though thankfully he didn't have to. Potts insisted she pay for Ken, so rather than opting for the most affordable beer, Ken informed the bartender that he wasn't a hard drinker and that he was diabetic.

A few minutes later he received some form of peach mojito, a drink which looked rather dubious - especially next to Potts' margarita - but which turned out to be delicious.

"Thank you, Ms. Potts," Ken began.

"Of course," she said, reaching for her briefcase. "It's the least we can do."

"For me, or for Liz?" Ken blurted out.

Potts blinked in surprise, and Ken winced. Damnit, he'd barely had a sip of his drink, so he couldn't even blame the booze.

"...both," she agreed, pulling out a folder with several thin stacks of papers in it. Opening it and laying it out on the bar between them, she said, "Tony and I - We poured a lot of work into that tower, and a lot of our hearts...and it got used for _that_." She didn't even have to mention the Battle by name, it was clear in her voice. "So since we caused that mess, we were supposed to clean it up." She looked down at the files, at Liz's best shot at a future. "And we just created another mess for ourselves, instead."

Ken slowly nodded. "So how are you going to clean this one up?" he asked - mostly out of a habit that made him wince as soon as the words left his mouth. Rephrasing someone's concern into a positive potential for action using their own terminology - that was a tactic meant for students, not for...whatever Potts was in this mess.

But it worked. With a wan smile, Potts started pulling out papers, discussing educational contacts she had thin connections to via SI's scholarly history, and consolidation of tests necessary for Liz.

It had seemed like such a daunting task. In many ways, it really still was. He was going to have to browbeat the teachers into this, and make arrangements for the tests, and a dozen other small tasks to keep this going.

But nearly an hour and another drink later - this time a draft beer for Ken and wine for Potts - and they had a plan for Liz to be able to effectively attend and graduate Midtown Tech all the way from Oregon.

Finally sitting back - as much as one could on a barstool - and slipping all the files into his own briefcase, Ken spared a moment to just sip at his beer and let it sink in.

This was really happening. He was really going to do this, and he was really doing so with the assistance of Pepper Potts.

"Thank you," he said. With a rueful headshake, he added, "I was nearly hyperventilating in my office at the thought of dealing with this, and you just...took care of it."

"Like I said," Potts said, holding up her wine glass. "It's the least I can do."

Ken tapped his beer-mug against her glass, and took a large gulp of it.

"I got that," he said. "I just don't know how you do it."

Pepper raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

Ken shrugged, trying to find a way to word everything right. "Keep your head level, despite all the stress you must be under. Staying composed under the greatest pressure. I don't know how you can maintain such **equanimity** in the middle of all that madness."

Potts actually laughed. "I'm not sure, either," she admitted. "I mostly just fake it til I make it."

With a raised eyebrow of his own, Ken tapped his heel against his brief case with Liz's paperwork now in it. "You 'fake it' very, _very_ well.

She took a sip of her drink, considered him, then took a large gulp.

"It's not about faking what I do," she said, voice a little rough from the amount of wine consumed in one go. "It's about...focusing on what I do, and faking everything else."

"Seems to work well for you," Ken said.

"Composure is always a little fake, anyway," Pepper said. Then, with a grin, she lifted up her almost-empty wineglass and added, "It helps to occasionally let it go, though - just a little."

Tapping his mug to the glass again, Ken admitted, "Cheers to that."

~*~

Come Monday, Ken spent a better part of the day chasing down Liz's teachers to put together the mother of all homework packets for her. Some were happy to, and some...were not. Monica's flipped classroom thankfully made it easy work to adapt to Liz's needs. Stillwell's class, meanwhile, couldn't really be adapted to distance education at all. The rest fell somewhere in the middle.

"But they're still doing it, right?" Larry said, when Ken grumbled about it in the office.

Ken sighed. "Yeah. There's that much at least." He shifted the pile of test prep files into one arm, freeing up his other hand to rub at his temples again. "I know we've all had a rough year and all, but it's like half the time, people forget our job isn't to answer to the DoE, it's to take care of these kids."

"Just don't let the stress get to you," Larry said sincerely.

Too sincerely.

"After all," Larry continued with a grin. Ken got a sinking feeling he knew what was coming next. "Imagine how awkward it would be if Grace had to ask _you_ to pee into a cup?"

Ken narrowed his eyes, and remembered what Pepper said about occasionally _letting go, just a little_.

Without turning his body or moving any other part of his body, Ken pointed looked down to where his fist was curled under and around a stack of papers, back up to Larry, and raised his middle finger.

The man doubled over laughing, and Ken sighed as he headed for his office, planning how best to curse all the photocopiers on the way. It was the least Larry deserved.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come help me study by sending me a vocab prompt! :)](http://nyxelestia.tumblr.com/grelsat)


End file.
